


Amidst the Strawberry Leaves

by futureboy (PokeRowan)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gardens & Gardening, Hidden Talents, M/M, Talking to animals, talking to plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokeRowan/pseuds/futureboy
Summary: The guy who owns the plot a couple spaces over from Ryan's... Well, he's got really irritating pets, that's for sure. Ryan's getting tired of protecting his garden and his love life from unwarranted meddling.[Prompted on tumblr]





	Amidst the Strawberry Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> [RPF disclaimer: Written according to guidelines set by RT employees (to the best of my knowledge). This is a fictional series of events using characters inspired by real people.]
> 
> "Jeremwood requests?? I'm on it! Ryan who can talk to animals is constantly being harassed by his neighbor's 3 cats who are determined to get them together. Jeremy is none the wiser to these antics between his cats and Ryan. He's just glad they 'get along'. the cats are of no actual help to Ryan's love life but firmly believe they are -Anonymous"

Ryan strides past the houses on the edge of the avenue, into the fields and towards the allotments, and wonders if those fucking cats have dug up his plants again. He didn't mind when they crapped in his flowers last year, but ever since he found out who they belonged to, they'd been making his life...

Difficult.

"I don't like strawberries," says Booker, wrinkling his nose.

"And I don't care," Ryan says firmly. Zipper curls around his waist when he sits in front of his strawberry rows; he gives him a friendly scritch between the ears.

"You never treat _me_ like that."

"Booker, you never give me a reason to. Why don't you try, I don't know, staying out of my plants for a start--"

Scooter, with his usual self-satisfied resting face, licks a paw and rubs behind his head. "It's your fault for being so good at growing stuff," he says, and Ryan will never get used to how weirdly thick his accent is; Cat is a hard sound to describe, but when his head translates it into English, Scooter seems to have a real thick Bostonian accent.

"My fault for having green fingers? That's a new one."

"Uh-huh," says Scooter, "You'd be great at growing catnip and Jeremy can't do it. He always kills it. We're _jealous_."

"And that makes ripping apart my baby strawberries okay?! Get out of here, guys, come on."

There's a bug behind Zipper's ear that Ryan can hear muttering to itself - he's not gonna let the cat know, just to spite him. "But you have so much in common! It's in the name of _love_ \--"

"Don't you start, Zip, I've spoken to him a grand total of twice," Ryan says, and cringes, because that was about how many words he'd managed to blurt out, too. Jeremy's intimidatingly attractive. He's (probably) also way more interesting, much cooler than Ryan, and couldn't possibly be interested in a guy who shouts at cats.

"Can you grow some catnip for us anyway? You know, in case our brilliant matchmaking doesn't work out?" Scooter asks, swishing his tail.

"Please go away," he pleads, because, oh god, Jeremy's coming down to his plot with a pitchfork.

There's a chorus of _Jeremy!_ as the three of them bound over to him. Ryan puts his head down and keeps pruning the dead leaves from his plants, if only to avoid their pointed, smug little looks.

"Hey, guys, hey... Hanging out with all my little green buddies? That's so cute, aw--"

And Ryan watches wordlessly as he kneels down to examine his potato plants. The touch he gives to the leaves is tender, gentle, like they were fragile orchids instead of hardy tubers. "Hey there," he smiles, and, oh, yikes, Ryan's heart does a thing doctors would probably want him to get checked out.

So… Jeremy's the kind of gardener who chats to plants? That was ridiculously adorable. It's meant to help, and a few of the people who own plots here do it for sure. Ryan's usually too busy arguing with other people's pets to chat to the fucking berries, though.

Maybe Jeremy hasn't noticed him. There's a wall of peas running up netting which separates them; he feels well hidden.

"We're gonna start with some watering, and then check your leaves, and then I'm gonna see if some of you are getting a little too close to each other for comfort. I know a couple of you are lying to me..."

That Boston accent makes his fingers shake. He really hopes Jeremy hasn't noticed him.

"...What do you mean, how are things with Flower Guy?"

Had someone else come down to the allotment with him? Ryan's head jerks up. Jeremy's kneeling down, and he's rendered invisible beyond the pea plants - it's impossible to tell. "He's Strawberry Guy now, I've told you," he continues. Ryan's definitely developing a heart condition _. Jeremy's talking about him._

He's never wanted to eavesdrop on the other half of a conversation more. Maybe it's a phone call or something?

"Look, every time I try to talk to him, my mouth starts running. It makes me look like a fuckin' dumbass."

A pause, punctuated by trickling water:

"What, a quiet guy like him? I bet he's a writer or a librarian or some shit. A philosopher. A country garden chef. I don't know."

Booker creeps over, and purrs: "are you any of those?"

"I _design websites_ ," Ryan hisses, and ducks his head down amidst the strawberry leaves again.

"He gets on with my cats. That's as much as I can ask for. Perfectly happy with it, thanks."

 _Gets on with_. Pah. That was generous. Ryan swats at Booker's paw from where the ball of black fuzz is batting at strawberry stalks.

"No," Jeremy says, sounding annoyed. His voice is carrying over the peas. "I'm not doing that."

It's possible he could creep away. The other man sounds very invested in his conversation, and the more he listens, the less is sounds like Jeremy wants to talk to him, and it's kind of killing him inside a little bit. He gathers up his trowel and watering can - maybe he can come back later? - and just as he stands up: 

"Why?" says Jeremy mockingly, getting to his feet. "Because I'm not taking dating advice from a fucking _potato_!" 

They both rise together, and catch each other's gazes. Jeremy freezes, goes very wide eyed, and clips his heel on his pitchfork. He goes down like a sack of fertiliser.

Ryan edges around the peas, and extends his hand.

"Sorry I scared you," he blurts out, just as Jeremy says, "I'm not weird, I promise."

They stare at each other, until Ryan breaks their stunned silence with an unrestrained _giggle_ , which sets off embarrassed chuckling in Jeremy, and suddenly the air is clear.

He takes the hand.

"Dating advice from a potato, huh?" Ryan says, raising his eyebrows. "Can't say I've heard that complaint before."

"There's literally no way I can explain it to you which would end up with you believing me," Jeremy says. He tries to adjust the shoe he knocked against the pitchfork, and hops momentarily.

"Try me," Ryan says simply.

"Uh... I have a way with plants?" tries Jeremy.

"I'll say. They sound as annoying as your cats are."

Zipper and Scooter hear the word 'cat', and suddenly they're winding their ways through Ryan and Jeremy's legs; assumedly, Booker is back to destroying his strawberries.

"They can be a pain in the ass," Jeremy agrees.

"Give _me_ dating advice, too. Cats and potatoes... Can't live with 'em, can't relax at the allotment with 'em either. Never mind."

"So you can," says Jeremy, pointing at the cats and then Ryan and then jabbing at his ears. He looks dazed when Ryan nods in confirmation. "What do they say? Do they mention me?"

"They never shut up about you," Ryan says honestly.

"Oh," says Jeremy, sounding faint. "That's, that's cool. They sound like my potatoes, they never shut up about _you_ , but that's more because they're nosy."

"Nosy? About what? Do the strawberries talk?"

"Not much," he rambles, "stuff like strawberries and blackberries don't really talk much until they're ripe. Blackberries are really nasty, though, _super_ rude, not like what you're growing. Yours are just like _you_ , they tend to sit there quietly and look pretty--"

And Jeremy, in the opposite of the damn berries, goes red and shuts up.

"Do yougrhgg," says Ryan, and takes a breath so he doesn't fuck it up.

Spit it out, Haywood.

"I don't like coffee," he says instead. His brain is going too fast. "I mean, I don't like coffee, but we can find a place to sit and maybe talk? Over a drink of some kind? If... If you wanna?"

"That sounds nice," says Jeremy weakly.

He can't believe his luck, until he hears cheers behind him. "Cram it, Booker," he mumbles, speaking to the side, "you were all useless and you suck. Uh... No offense to your cats, Jeremy."

"Nah, it's okay," Jeremy says. "They're assholes. Tried growing catnip one time to keep them occupied, but... ah, it didn't work out. I couldn't figure out how to keep it alive."

"I could help out with that," Ryan murmurs.

He ignores the jubilant mewing coming from somewhere underneath his feet, and gets the feeling that Jeremy's similarly ignoring the way the potato stalks are fluttering in the breeze.

He does, however, listen all afternoon to Jeremy's gardening stories, and tales about his life, and even tells a couple of his own ("I'm not a philosopher, oh my god," he clarifies). It's sweet and summery over strawberry smoothies.

And Ryan reluctantly concludes that cats don't _always_ complicate things... Even if they do take a bit too much credit sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed. I reckon it's alright, though.
> 
> Come chat with me on [tumblr](http://futureboy-ao3.tumblr.com), if you like!


End file.
